hundred & forty

A note to the side chicks: there is no winning. It’ll drive you mad if you don’t have him, but you know the second you do, you won’t trust him. You’re competing, baby, but there is no competition. This isn’t about respecting yourself or fighting for what you want. This is about realizing you’re worth honesty. And with this, what you’re doing at 2am, there is no winning.

hundred & thirty-nine

Trust me, I’m just as sick of writing sad strings of words as you are reading them. I wonder, then, if when the hurt is gone, will I even be able to write? Perhaps only colorful words will slip from my tongue like a million rainbows with no hidden intentions.  

hundred & thirty-eight

Just know when she’s stopped playing games, it’s because she’s stopped caring who the winner is. And when that’s the case, man, you’ve lost her.

hundred & thirty-seven

I’m trying to rub clean the words engraved in my mind; consider my walls built and my heart incarcerated. 

hundred & thirty-six

Are the highs ever worth how deep the lows get?

hundred & thirty-five

I swear I’ll write you a rainbow as soon as my skies clear.

hundred & thirty-four

She sits alone in a cluttered art room painting canvasses, sitting cross legged, wine in hand, observing her work with quiet triumph. One acoustic cover fades into the next and the hours slip away. Truly, sometimes all you need is a long uninterrupted afternoon and a pencil to find that the only one who needs to love you is you.